Since then Ralphy had been operating the bodega and running numbers out of the building next to it. Both were properties he had purchased before his incarceration.
Ralphy grabbed Shannon around his arms and pulled him off Roots. Shannon snarled at Ralphy, but didnât attack him. The kindly Spanish cat who owned the store had known Shannon and his family since the eighties, so there was a line of respect that he wouldnât cross, even in a blind rage. Spooky went to draw on Ralphy, but Dena gave a quick explanation of who he was, and the killer fell back.
âWhat the fuck, Shannon!â Ralphy yelled, looking at the bloodied Roots lying across the entrance to his store. âDid you have to beat him up on my stoop?â
Shannon took a minute to catch his breath. âMy fault, Ralphy, this nigga just got a big mouth.â Shannon kicked Roots for emphasis.
âCome on, come on.â Ralphy pushed him back. âShannon, get your ass up outta here before the police lock you up. Denaââhe looked to the girlââget your fast ass off to school and stop causing trouble.â
âRalphy, I didnât do nothing!â she protested.
Ralphy looked from Roots, who was having trouble getting to his feet, back to Dena. âYou never do. Just go, Dena.â
Dena opened her mouth to say something but knew it was useless. âCome on, Mo,â she called to her friend and started in the direction of the train station.
Mo hesitated, looking from Yvette and Mousy, who were laughing hysterically at Roots, back to Denaâs departing form. âBut the blunt ainât dead!â
Chapter 4
âYEAH, YOU AINâT POPPING THAT SHIT NOW, IS you nigga?â Jah stood wide-legged in the middle of the plush living room. His arm was fully extended and locked in place at the elbow. In his hand he held a high-tech pistol with an incredibly long barrel. The anticipation of the kill made his heart beat slightly faster in his chest. He always got butterflies before he popped off. As cool as the other side of the pillow, he pulled the trigger and hit his mark.
âBlood, that was a lucky shot!â Tech accused, watching the low-bit digital duck go bug-eyed and spiral into the video grass. Busting out the old school Nintendo and playing Duck Hunt was a favorite pastime of theirs.
âWhat I tell you about that âbloodâ shit, Tech?â Jah placed the plastic gun on the table.
âCome on, man, itâs just something I say,â Tech smirked.
âDig, I ainât blood or cuz, so stop kicking that backyard boogie shit to me.â
âI forgot that the only set you respect is the green side.â Tech waived a dollar in the air, which Jah quickly snatched.
âMuthafucking right. Cash over colors, fool!â Jah pushed Tech playfully.
Tech was a few years younger than Jah, but had proven
to be wise beyond his years. It was good for Jah to have someone to keep him occupied, since Spooky was still running wild and kept a low profile. He was on fire in Harlem, so he spent a good deal of his time in Brooklyn with his brother Nate and his crew. The Brooklyn heads were jacking shit left and right, but only a few of them put in real work, until Spooky came along. When Jah asked him what was up he simply said: âIâm giving them a swagger.â
The previous summer had taught him a painful lesson: Tomorrow isnât promised to anyone. His brother had killed himself in prison after murdering his sonâs mother, or at least who he thought was his sonâs mother. As it turned out Rhonda had ran a dirty game on Jahâs brother, Paul, and in the end both their lives were the price; and then there was a little boy that had no parents. The grandmother stepped to the plate and took in all three of Rhondaâs children. Some say that the guilt of the way she had treated her daughter in life moved her to do so. She got a monthly check from the government,